Heaven forbid I ever need a major surgery. I mean, seriously, just put me down. Like a horse.
So I am STILL recovering from this damn wisdom tooth extraction. Only 2, mind you. Not even all 4 teeth.
I get a teeny bit better each day...enough to keep me from calling and cursing out my dentist, but not enough that I feel any satisfactory improvement.
I can now sleep on the affected side, but it still hurts to kiss. Or chew. Or smile.
When I brush my teeth on that side, something pulls...like there is a stitch lying next to a molar up above and down below. Makes my stomach turn over...and when I look back there, I can still see giant Frankenstein stitches everywhere. When do these dissolve exactly?
I am a terrible patient. I mean, I was okay for the first 24 hours when I was still on the good drugs. But I had to quickly wean myself off because, you know, responsible for children over here...and then I become the worst patient ever. Pissing and moaning about my aching mouth...to Jeff's credit, he has not rolled his eyes even once. When I'm looking, anyway.
-clap, clap-
Enough pity party. To the doctor tomorrow, where he'll either tell me to suck it up, he TOLD me that I'm old now and this would be harder than the 18 year olds I knew who had it done. OR, he'll tell me that there is some complication and no wonder I'm still in pain and then fix it. I'm leaning towards the first option. Where he tells me I'm old. Again.
On other fronts, did you know that when one parent is out of commission it really sucks when the other parent gets sick? So of course Jeff had a really bad sore throat and congestion which meant Jeff was also stumbling around feeling awful. Homework and long term projects were abandoned, practices skipped, parties skipped, much yelling and griping at children who insist on being healthy and wanting to act like children.
But it's Monday. -clap, clap- Time to rally. Children were bathed this morning (another thing that slid by), papers were signed, playdates were made.
Seriously. Teeth, people. Just put me down the next time, okay?
Monday, October 28, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Updates
1) Alwyn is doing as well as can be expected. She came out of surgery an hour early, both doctors were confidant they got all the cancer, and apparently one of the doctors seemed really elated and excited at the outcome. She slept for the most of 2 days and now is awake and walking !?!? Assuming no infections pop up and all goes well once she starts eating again (she's been on IV nutrition and apple juice since the surgery) she may even come home a day early! So all good news there! She even sent me an e-mail yesterday. Amazing.
2) Neighbor who makes fun of my house called me Friday morning. Lily had apparently been playing tag at the bus stop and fell down. Neighbor ran to her house (right next to the stop) and got her ice and then promptly called me to let me know just in case Lily complained of her fingers hurting. Now, isn't that nice and neighborly? Above and beyond, even. I just want to give credit where credit is due.
3) I signed up for a Zumba-thon. Whaaaaaaa?, you say. Oh, yes. I will be doing Zumba for 2 hours STRAIGHT...at night...with about 1,000,000 other people. And you thought you knew who I was. Well, I still don't own tassle pants. But Jeff is holding out hope for the boob job.
4) Speaking of the gym, after Zumba last week, there was a table set up in the lobby. I signed a slip for some contest...and then I got a call the next day that I won! 6 free small group personal training sessions! A $300 value (or something close to that). Hooray! I won! Oh, wait. Now I have to go to small group personal training sessions. Boooo. I may need to keep back some of the prescription meds from #5.
5) Yah, so, tomorrow my mouth is going to become a little less wise. My dentist has been bugging me to get these 2 wisdom teeth removed, for, like, 7 years. I'm finally doing it. He convinced me via x-ray. -sigh- My first time with IV sedation. Seriously, if I'm one of those few people who dies from general anesthesia, and I die getting my freaking wisdom teeth out...I am going to be PISSED. Make a note. Say it at my funeral. PISSED.
On a related note, Jeff is taking the day off to bring my puffy faced butt home. He is super excited to have a day off. If he takes any movies of me coming off anesthesia, and posts it on You-tube, then this is a public notice that I will no longer be married to him. The marriage contract will be null and void immediately. And he wins custody of the children.
2) Neighbor who makes fun of my house called me Friday morning. Lily had apparently been playing tag at the bus stop and fell down. Neighbor ran to her house (right next to the stop) and got her ice and then promptly called me to let me know just in case Lily complained of her fingers hurting. Now, isn't that nice and neighborly? Above and beyond, even. I just want to give credit where credit is due.
3) I signed up for a Zumba-thon. Whaaaaaaa?, you say. Oh, yes. I will be doing Zumba for 2 hours STRAIGHT...at night...with about 1,000,000 other people. And you thought you knew who I was. Well, I still don't own tassle pants. But Jeff is holding out hope for the boob job.
4) Speaking of the gym, after Zumba last week, there was a table set up in the lobby. I signed a slip for some contest...and then I got a call the next day that I won! 6 free small group personal training sessions! A $300 value (or something close to that). Hooray! I won! Oh, wait. Now I have to go to small group personal training sessions. Boooo. I may need to keep back some of the prescription meds from #5.
5) Yah, so, tomorrow my mouth is going to become a little less wise. My dentist has been bugging me to get these 2 wisdom teeth removed, for, like, 7 years. I'm finally doing it. He convinced me via x-ray. -sigh- My first time with IV sedation. Seriously, if I'm one of those few people who dies from general anesthesia, and I die getting my freaking wisdom teeth out...I am going to be PISSED. Make a note. Say it at my funeral. PISSED.
On a related note, Jeff is taking the day off to bring my puffy faced butt home. He is super excited to have a day off. If he takes any movies of me coming off anesthesia, and posts it on You-tube, then this is a public notice that I will no longer be married to him. The marriage contract will be null and void immediately. And he wins custody of the children.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
If you are so inclined...
I have to say, in my 36 years here on earth, I don't think I've ever asked other people to pray for something. I don't honestly know how I feel about prayer and how it works...does it make any difference?
But if ever there was a time to take a chance, it is tomorrow.
Tomorrow my friend Alwyn is going to have a very important, very scary surgery to get rid of the very scary cancer in her body.
Alwyn was born and raised in Brisbane, Australia. She met her American husband while teaching English in Japan. I met her when we were both pregnant with our 3rd child. Her 3 kids are the same ages as mine, so we have an instant bond because of that. But it is easy to be friends with Alwyn. She is kind and genuine and funny. I could write a huge post just about her, but I'll refrain. You just have to meet her to know how wonderful she is.
So if you are so inclined, pray for her doctors tomorrow...that they get a good night's sleep and can do the very best job that they can.
Pray for her family, that they stay full of hope.
Pray for her body, to stay strong and heal quickly from this incredible surgery.
Just pray.
But if ever there was a time to take a chance, it is tomorrow.
Tomorrow my friend Alwyn is going to have a very important, very scary surgery to get rid of the very scary cancer in her body.
Alwyn was born and raised in Brisbane, Australia. She met her American husband while teaching English in Japan. I met her when we were both pregnant with our 3rd child. Her 3 kids are the same ages as mine, so we have an instant bond because of that. But it is easy to be friends with Alwyn. She is kind and genuine and funny. I could write a huge post just about her, but I'll refrain. You just have to meet her to know how wonderful she is.
So if you are so inclined, pray for her doctors tomorrow...that they get a good night's sleep and can do the very best job that they can.
Pray for her family, that they stay full of hope.
Pray for her body, to stay strong and heal quickly from this incredible surgery.
Just pray.
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Andrew and keeping it together at school (now with update)
Andrew is quite disorganized. If you asked my neighbor, she'd say she knew where he got it from. Not that I'm still fretting about her. Except that I am. The elephant that never forgets.
I digress.
In 2nd grade, Andrew would forget EVERYTHING. He'd forget to bring things to school and to bring things back. I ended up tracing my hand and coming up with HIGH FIVE. I hung one by our front door with 5 things he had to remember before leaving our house, and we laminated one and pasted it to his desk with 5 different things for him to remember before leaving school. It sort of worked.
In 3rd grade, he would regularly not write down assignments, forget to bring home the only thing he needed for homework, etc. etc.
I waskind of super worried about 4th grade. Not only were we going to get MORE homework, he was going to be pulled out of class for Humanities every day, Math Enrichment 2 times a week, and band 1 time a week. He also was going to be changing classes for Science. I honestly was expecting him to fail 4th grade just because of his inability to coordinate all this.
He's surprising me. He is independently remembering to work on assignments, he has not forgotten any book or workbook that he's needed (well...he forgot once...but it was the second week of school...). His work is neat and very good quality. I am kind of shocked at how well he's managing. I also acknowledge that I don't really know if he's holding it together. I could very well go into the conference in November and the teacher informs me that he's never once turned in a writing journal (I don't think he has one of those...but see? He could just not be bringing it home).
His assignment notebook is...abysmal. I just...can't... He writes the wrong subject's homework next to another subject, he completely omits certain subjects on certain days. Ergh.
But I have to let him navigate this, right? As long as he's completing his homework and staying organized in all other ways, I have to let him do this.
But letting him do this means there will be more entries like yesterday.
Me: "Andrew? What's this written down at the bottom? It's not in a subject box and it just says 'FTT'."
Andrew thinks a minute. "Oh! It means 'something Test Thursday.'" He looks triumphantly at me for remembering.
Me: "Something? What does the 'F' stand for? Isn't that kind of an important piece?"
Andrew shrugs.
-sigh-
***Update: Turns out FTT stood for "field trip Thursday" -sigh-
I digress.
In 2nd grade, Andrew would forget EVERYTHING. He'd forget to bring things to school and to bring things back. I ended up tracing my hand and coming up with HIGH FIVE. I hung one by our front door with 5 things he had to remember before leaving our house, and we laminated one and pasted it to his desk with 5 different things for him to remember before leaving school. It sort of worked.
In 3rd grade, he would regularly not write down assignments, forget to bring home the only thing he needed for homework, etc. etc.
I was
He's surprising me. He is independently remembering to work on assignments, he has not forgotten any book or workbook that he's needed (well...he forgot once...but it was the second week of school...). His work is neat and very good quality. I am kind of shocked at how well he's managing. I also acknowledge that I don't really know if he's holding it together. I could very well go into the conference in November and the teacher informs me that he's never once turned in a writing journal (I don't think he has one of those...but see? He could just not be bringing it home).
His assignment notebook is...abysmal. I just...can't... He writes the wrong subject's homework next to another subject, he completely omits certain subjects on certain days. Ergh.
But I have to let him navigate this, right? As long as he's completing his homework and staying organized in all other ways, I have to let him do this.
But letting him do this means there will be more entries like yesterday.
Me: "Andrew? What's this written down at the bottom? It's not in a subject box and it just says 'FTT'."
Andrew thinks a minute. "Oh! It means 'something Test Thursday.'" He looks triumphantly at me for remembering.
Me: "Something? What does the 'F' stand for? Isn't that kind of an important piece?"
Andrew shrugs.
-sigh-
***Update: Turns out FTT stood for "field trip Thursday" -sigh-
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
Zumba
So we are still members at the gym. And for the last 4 weeks, I've been going to a Zumba class on Tuesday mornings. My friend is to blame. She loves Zumba, and has been trying to convert me to this activity for at least a year. She finally wore me down, and now it is fun to see her on Tuesdays...so I've continued to go.
Just in case you've never taken Zumba, let me explain it.
The short description is that it is just like Sweatin' to the Oldies with Richard Simmons, except with many more chest pops and pelvic thrusts.
You cram into a room with about 1,000 other women. At my gym a dress code of barely there spandex tops and teeny spandex capris seems to be required. Tassles, botox, and breast implants are optional. We all flail about in an organized epileptic fit to music so loud that it literally shakes the floor beneath your feet. (I know, because I have worked out in the space below the Zumba rooms...the music vibrates the ceiling of that room.) The music is kept as loud as possible so that you can't hear any instruction from the Zumba teacher, and you must instead squint through all the other gyrating bodies to try and figure out that you are shuffling to the left...no wait, now she's wiggling her hips...crap now we're jumping to the left...shit, what am I supposed to do now? The Zumba teacher is a preternaturally happy individual, who looks to be a very good dancer. I often think it would be fun to just grab a folding chair and watch the teacher move. She always has a huge smile on her face, probably to mask the nearly debilitating depression that because she didn't make it into dance school, she is left leading a bunch of slouchy, soft-in-the belly, uncoordinated stumps like me. She shrieks with glee as the next song comes on, even though...come on...she must hear the same music several times a week, week after week after week. She will shout over the incredibly loud din for you to cheer with her. Sometimes if she is particularly moved, she will turn the music UP. Either because she clearly has become deaf or to drown out the slapping of uncoordinated feet.
If you are like me, Zumba is incredibly frustrating. But I find I have really learned new things about myself through this class.
Things I have discovered:
1) If I ever have a stroke which debilitates either the top or bottom half of my body, I will be okay. Because there is already zero communication between the two. I'll finally get the step that we're doing, and I decide to add in the beautiful dancer arms...and then my feet stop moving. I focus on my feet, and my arms either stop moving or start flailing about in a very not beautiful way.
2) I am missing some joint in my hips. Seriously. I don't even know how to tell my body to do some of the things the teacher is doing with her pelvis. She swears it is just crunching up your abs, but her booty is doing some incredible shaking...and mine is just sticking with jiggling. Not the same effect.
3) Marching band has ruined me. I want to count the steps and go left right left right. But these are DANCERS, people. Just FEEL the music, man. So we miss a step here and there. It goes with the flow. Just FEEL it. (For the record...I can't feel it)
4) With each class I go to, I care less about how poorly I am doing. I just flail about, hopping here and there, jumping around completely willy-nilly. A few more weeks, and I'll just be wandering around, humming to myself, twitching and stumbling. People might think I'm a mentally handicapped individual who has accidentally come into class. Except that comparison would be very insulting to such a person. They certainly have more rhythm and grace than me.
But I am starting to enjoy myself. My friend laughs at me, I laugh at me...it's all okay. I just have to keep avoiding the mirror at the front of the room so I can't see what a disaster I am.
Just in case you've never taken Zumba, let me explain it.
The short description is that it is just like Sweatin' to the Oldies with Richard Simmons, except with many more chest pops and pelvic thrusts.
You cram into a room with about 1,000 other women. At my gym a dress code of barely there spandex tops and teeny spandex capris seems to be required. Tassles, botox, and breast implants are optional. We all flail about in an organized epileptic fit to music so loud that it literally shakes the floor beneath your feet. (I know, because I have worked out in the space below the Zumba rooms...the music vibrates the ceiling of that room.) The music is kept as loud as possible so that you can't hear any instruction from the Zumba teacher, and you must instead squint through all the other gyrating bodies to try and figure out that you are shuffling to the left...no wait, now she's wiggling her hips...crap now we're jumping to the left...shit, what am I supposed to do now? The Zumba teacher is a preternaturally happy individual, who looks to be a very good dancer. I often think it would be fun to just grab a folding chair and watch the teacher move. She always has a huge smile on her face, probably to mask the nearly debilitating depression that because she didn't make it into dance school, she is left leading a bunch of slouchy, soft-in-the belly, uncoordinated stumps like me. She shrieks with glee as the next song comes on, even though...come on...she must hear the same music several times a week, week after week after week. She will shout over the incredibly loud din for you to cheer with her. Sometimes if she is particularly moved, she will turn the music UP. Either because she clearly has become deaf or to drown out the slapping of uncoordinated feet.
If you are like me, Zumba is incredibly frustrating. But I find I have really learned new things about myself through this class.
Things I have discovered:
1) If I ever have a stroke which debilitates either the top or bottom half of my body, I will be okay. Because there is already zero communication between the two. I'll finally get the step that we're doing, and I decide to add in the beautiful dancer arms...and then my feet stop moving. I focus on my feet, and my arms either stop moving or start flailing about in a very not beautiful way.
2) I am missing some joint in my hips. Seriously. I don't even know how to tell my body to do some of the things the teacher is doing with her pelvis. She swears it is just crunching up your abs, but her booty is doing some incredible shaking...and mine is just sticking with jiggling. Not the same effect.
3) Marching band has ruined me. I want to count the steps and go left right left right. But these are DANCERS, people. Just FEEL the music, man. So we miss a step here and there. It goes with the flow. Just FEEL it. (For the record...I can't feel it)
4) With each class I go to, I care less about how poorly I am doing. I just flail about, hopping here and there, jumping around completely willy-nilly. A few more weeks, and I'll just be wandering around, humming to myself, twitching and stumbling. People might think I'm a mentally handicapped individual who has accidentally come into class. Except that comparison would be very insulting to such a person. They certainly have more rhythm and grace than me.
But I am starting to enjoy myself. My friend laughs at me, I laugh at me...it's all okay. I just have to keep avoiding the mirror at the front of the room so I can't see what a disaster I am.
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